


Leftists Stole All of My Bread

by Centricide (Kyun)



Series: Horseshoe Theory [2]
Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Manipulative Relationship, Mention of Drag, Mention of Kidnapping, Pet Names, Temperature Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:20:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27167812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyun/pseuds/Centricide
Summary: In which I read far too much into subtext and Ancap fucks about with the thermostat to find out what he already knew ("wouldn't want to violate the NAP now, would we?").(Leave kudos/comments if you want; this is my first work.)
Relationships: Ancap/Ancap's Eight Canon Child Wives
Series: Horseshoe Theory [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035195
Comments: 13
Kudos: 32





	Leftists Stole All of My Bread

**Author's Note:**

> (Takes place after Meet The Extremists and Conquest of Bread.)
> 
> Ancap canonically has several houses and goes back to live with one of his child wives because he's a pissbaby. Ancap let Ancom dress one of his child wives up in drag like he promised in MTE. This takes place a little while after that.

“How are we feeling, kitten?” Ancap didn’t look up from the couch, tapping at his phone.

“Strange.”

“Good strange or bad strange?” He was nonchalant, laissez-faire... Amused.

“Strange strange.”

“Something wrong?”

“You know what’s wrong.”

“Oh?” A smile, hardly restrained, barely creeping through.

“You made me dress in drag.”

“Well, you know, the customer is always right.”

“I don't remember you paying me.”

“Details, details!”

Beat. Beat. Beat. Silence. Ancap looked up. For a second. Maybe two seconds. No, just a second.

There, she stood-5 foot, 2 and a half inches-in his tank top and shorts at the end of the couch. Giving him the silent treatment. For the third time this morning. He checked his watch. 10am... _Women are so difficult._

“You know, the other girls are never this fussy.”

“So?”

“So,” said Ancap, lowering the thermostat from the app on his phone. "You should be grateful, nyes?”

“I don’t remember asking to be here.”

“And I don’t remember asking to pay taxes. Yet, here we are.”

“That’s not the same,” she said, "at all."

“I'm sorry,” said Ancap, “that you’re bad at capitalism. I really am. As if it’s my fault.”

Beat. Beat. Beat. “Ancap.” Beat. “Ancap... It’s cold.” 

Over his glasses, he could see her feet turn inwards like a duck's. “Is it?”

“Yes.”

“That’s funny; it doesn’t feel cold over here.”

“I’m a girl,” she said, teeth chattering, clinking. “And I’m sm-. I’m small.”

“Are you now?”

"It's colder... for me, whatever it is." Hands rubbing up and down her arms. Chittering. Stuttering. “You have the blanket.”

“I do.”

“I’m not wearing anything.” Silence. More silence. "It's cold."

Ancap sighed (almost like he was suffering) through his nose, stretching his arm straight out as if this wasn't what he wanted.

She dove into the nook of his shoulder, slipping under the sheets. It was a soft, hot cocoon, foam-like, and her arm snaked out over his waist. Breathing in and out.

Ancap tapping on his phone. Tapping, tapping.

“Daddy.”

“I said don't call me that.” Apps opening and closing.

"Mm..." She breathed in and out through her nose, closing her eyes. “You're already a paedophile.”

"Ephebophile."

Ancap was warm. Smelled like... Bread. Bagels. Bagels and cinnamon. Cinnamon bagels.

Coffee. Coffee and cinnamon bagels. Ancap.

Smelled like Ancap. Lies. Deceit. Money. Cowardice...

Chloroform. Moving vans. Metal chains. Duct tape. Dehydration. Water. Crying, crying.

_“Sh, it’s ok. I’m here. I’ve got you. Look at me. Oh, you’re beautiful. No, don’t hide. Ahaha. That won't get you anywhere._

_"Do you like money? Come here, I can help you. Wouldn't you like that? You must be scared. It's ok, you'll adjust.”_

Mostly coffee though. Mostly Ancap.

She burrowed deeper. All of the way to Antarctica. Mars. Anywhere.

“You know, kitten,” he said, laissez-faire and slow, tapping at his screen, “you are my favourite... even if you’re a pain in my neck.”

He looked down. She was sleeping. The off button shuttered, his phone set aside. Outside, wedding bells. Inside, blood on bedsheets. Ancap smiling down in the dark. Too much tooth, too much gum. Too much. Not again. Don't make me remember. I can't do it, not again.

Snoring. Dreaming. Blue sands, orange tides. Happy clowns, crying slaves. Screaming pain. A deaf God for ever dancing to a symphony of misery, smiling down. His finger, winding 'round her hair. Unraveling, unraveling. Curling fingers. In, out.

Everywhere but outside, thunder and lightning. Rainy, meaningless days. The tears of laughter from an amused God.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come at me, but I am locked and loaded in the luxury bunker. /s
> 
> Baby's first fanfiction. I tried to do well. This is my attempt at minimalism (and distracting myself from overdue homework). This is a niche within a niche x2 though. 
> 
> Please, leave kudos/comments if you want. UwY I'm lonely and need the company. Don't be shy. Share your thoughts.


End file.
